


outshine the morning sun

by loyaulte_me_lie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, BB-8 is a champion babysitter, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Poe is a baby whisperer, Possibly An Accidental Plotline Too, cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9320363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loyaulte_me_lie/pseuds/loyaulte_me_lie
Summary: “It’s okay,” he finds himself saying, juggling baby and blaster and the weight of the mother’s empty corpse sprawled on the floor like flotsam on a strandline. “It’s okay, little one, I’ll look after you.”// or the one in which Finn finds and keeps a baby, and shenanigans ensue.





	1. A Finding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenMabOnTheFinalizer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMabOnTheFinalizer/gifts).



> This was inspired by the song 'Dear Theodosia' from Hamilton which is completely adorable, and a need for some fluff in my life as writing 'and we'll burn' got quite dark. The next chapter of that will be up at some point in the next week! I'm also taking any prompts for this story, so fire away :) xx
> 
> Gifted to Queen Mab - my partner in crime <3

The aftermath of battles is always the worst, Finn thinks, looking around the wreckage of the square, the smoke curling upwards sullenly like the tentacles of an ethereal monster. The Resistance medics are carrying away the dead and the wounded, and the surviving soldiers are corralling disarmed Stormtroopers into an abandoned warehouse to wait for the General to arrive. The pilots have already hurtled off into hyperspace, chasing after the tatters of the First Order fleet, and Finn’s torn between worry for Poe (desperation with its back against the wall is always the most dangerous) and the black sadness that creeps over his shoulders at the bloodstain and blaster scarred rubble.

He shakes himself. There’s no point being stupid – he’s alive, so are his friends, they _won_ and there will be time to grieve later. Just as he’s about to turn and go over to where the General is emerging from the maw of one of the ruins, he hears a weak cry from a crumbling doorway to his left. His hand flies to his blaster instinctively; war is like a disease, threading into the spaces between neurons and bones and muscles, moving you before your brain gives the order. He’s not sure what he expects - dead, wounded, a hostage, a mad person – but when he flicks on the light on his weapon, his feet stop dead and stubbornly refuse to move.

The tiny bundle of blankets cradled to the dead woman’s chest is squeaking.

He takes an uncertain step forward, crouching down. The woman is pale, blood streaks like splinters down her face and staining her dress and the baby’s squeaks rise into a thin, high cry, its face bright red and screwed up in anger. Finn’s hands shake as he disentangles it from its mother’s lifeless arms; as if sensing the presence of another human, it quiets for a second, looking up at him with electricity-blue eyes that make his heart stutter against his ribs.

“It’s okay,” he finds himself saying, juggling baby and blaster and the weight of the mother’s empty corpse sprawled on the floor like flotsam on a strandline. “It’s okay, little one, I’ll look after you.”

*

The pilots get back late, and to be honest, all Poe wants is to fall into his and Finn’s bed and sleep until the war is over, but when he walks into the room he’s greeted with a disaster zone.

“Why have you got a _baby_?”

“Poe!” Finn turns, terror in every line of his face, and the baby honest-to-god _screams,_ flailing about in his arms. “Do you know anything about babies? She won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do!”

“I don’t think you’re holding her right,” Poe says, scrubbing a hand through his hair and trying to keep his eyes propped open, rifling through his brain to remember his brief attempts at babysitting before his father died and he joined the Republic Fleet. “You need to support her head, like this.”

He scoops the baby out of Finn’s arms, nestling her against his shoulder. She quiets immediately, cooing a little and going floppy and boneless against his flight-suit. Finn stares at him, and then slumps down onto the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How did you do that?”

“Talent.” He manages a tired smirk, sitting down next to his boyfriend. “Why, exactly, do you have a baby?”

“I found her during the clear-up. Her mother was dead and I couldn’t just leave her there and…”

“It’s okay buddy, it’s okay. C’mere.” Poe puts his free arm around Finn’s shoulders, careful not to the jostle the sleeping baby drooling all over his uniform.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really think,” Finn says softly. “The Resistance isn’t the best place for a baby – we should have found someone to look after her on Andara, there are plenty of people there but…”

“Finn.”

“Yes?”

“What do _you_ want?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the one who found her, so technically she’s yours. It’s up to you whether you want to keep her or not.”

Poe can see the thoughts ticking through Finn’s head, crossing his face like cloud-shadows on a deserted planet. The baby is a soft, warm thing in the crook of his arm, snuffling in her sleep. Her tiny fingers curl open and closed, flower petals opening their faces to the sun. Finn breathes out slowly, measuredly. “Do you mind if we keep her?”

“It won’t be easy,” Poe says. “But if it’s what you want, then we’ll do it.”

Finn’s smile is like the sunrise.


	2. A Naming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby naming is hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments - I'm really pleased you like this! I'm updating so quickly because I've had a free weekend; I'm afraid my life gets manic from here on out, so updates will be more sporadic. In any case - on with the fluff!

“Do you have a name for her yet?” Jess Pava is leaning over the box the quartermaster had handed over to Poe with a roll of her eyes (it’s always you, isn’t it Dameron?), tickling the baby’s palm with the tip of her finger. She’s greeted by silence, and looks over to see Poe clutching his mug of caf as though it’s the only thing saving him from drowning in tiredness. The circles under his eyes are deep enough to fly a starfighter into.

“Finn hasn’t really got the hang of naming things yet,” he says, “Let alone people.”

“He’s been out of the First Order for over a standard now.”

“You should have heard some of the ideas he had.”

Jess stifles a snort. “Try me.”

“Well I said you generally name babies something meaningful and the first thing out of his mouth was Rebellion.”

“Oh my god, he didn’t!”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s horrific! You can’t subject your poor daughter to that!”

“Yeah I know.” Poe runs his hand over his face to try and hide a yawn. “Though after last night she’s definitely not my favourite person right now.”

Jess squints at him. “She cried?”

“Three times. And spat up all over me twice. I don’t think she likes the milk we’ve got here, but it’s all we’ve got.”

“Welcome to parenthood, Daddy.”

“Unhelpful, Pava.”

“This is why I’m never having kids. I can be the cool aunty, cuddle them for a bit and the minute they get gross, chuck ‘em back to their parents.”

“Kids weren’t really in my life plan either, but…”

“Finn.”

“Yeah.”

She watches as he drains his mug, setting it down and sliding off his chair to kneel on the floor next to her, adjusting the ratty blanket lining the box. Despite the exhaustion carved into every line of his face, Jess can see the softness in Poe’s eyes as he looks at the daughter that has accidentally tumbled into his life.

“Well, maybe you should name her after something space-related. You spend enough time up there that it’s meaningful enough.”

It takes a moment for what she’s said to register. She can see it filtering into his brain, being sorted and processed and mulled over, and finally, he graces her with a weary smile. “That’s a good idea. Maybe you aren’t so useless after all.”

She smacks his arm. His laughter fills the room like dandelion-fluff carried by the spring winds.

*

At lunchtime, Finn announces his presence by slumping into the seat next to Poe, leaning forward onto the table. “Rey says she’ll beat me black and blue if we call the baby anything to do with politics.”

“Hate to break it to you, buddy, but women are generally right.”

“I just have no idea at all – why is naming so _difficult_?”

Poe slides his fingers through Finn’s and brushes a greeting kiss to his cheek. “I think you’re stressing too much.”

“I want it to be perfect. It’s the first gift we’re going to give her,” Finn says mutinously through a mouthful of stew. Poe doesn’t need to look at his face to know he’s thinking of that moment in the TIE-fighter; the desperation and exhilaration clotting in the air around them as they’d hurtled out of the port of the Finalizer, the adrenaline and the terror and the excitement of their escape and the way Poe had yelled, “Finn! I’m going to call you Finn. Is that alright?”

“I have an idea actually,” Poe tells him, glancing over at the box on the bench next to him.

“What is it?”

“Luna. It means moon. Then we could use Rey for her middle name like you wanted.”

“Luna Rey Dameron,” Finn turns the name over in his mouth. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

“See that wasn’t so hard.”

“Just because you’re good at everything,” Finn jibes back, gently elbowing him in the ribs.

When Poe gets back from clearing their plates, Finn has their daughter in his arms, rocking her back and forth hesitantly as though he’s sure she’s going to break apart at any sudden movement. “Hello Luna,” he says tenderly, and Poe feels his heart melt like candlewax, trickling through the spaces between his ribs.


	3. I Fall Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygoodness, you guys - thank you so much for the response to this, it is honestly making my life! I'm so pleased you like the fic, so here's another update, earlier than I thought it would be done, so enjoy! :) xx

At any other time, Poe would be _furious_ if General Organa grounded him for anything less than a life-threatening injury, and even now irritation pricks at his fingertips as she leans forward across her desk. “Poe,” she says. “I know what it’s like to be a new parent, and right now, she needs you more than we do.”

“If there’s an emergency…”

“If there’s an emergency the normal rules don’t apply. In any case, I expect you to be in the war room, and carry out all briefings and debriefings as usual.”

“Yes General.”

She gives him a small, aching smile and reaches out to brush her fingers along the back of his hand. “How are you feeling about everything?”

“Excuse me?”

“I hear everything was mostly Finn’s idea and very sudden, and I wanted to make sure that you are alright.”

“I think so.” He chokes back another yawn. “I’m tired more than anything. She wakes up four or five times every night and we take it in turns but still…”

Leia just looks at him, and he feels the angular, mismatched dam of his feelings creak under the weight of her stare. “I’m just not ready, General…”

“Leia.”

“ _Leia,_ before Finn found her I hadn’t even thought about kids, and I’d follow Finn into anything but I’m terrified that something is going to happen. It’s a war, people _die_. Every time one of us deploys, there’s a good chance we won’t come home.”

“But you want her?” Confusion washes over his face, and she sighs. “You’re not just going along with it because Finn wants to keep her?”

“General, sorry, Leia, I’m scared shitless by how much I love her already. All she does is scream and sleep and I’d do anything for her.”

“Babies tend to inspire that in their parents,” she says, and he watches the way her eyes lose focus, looking into thin air at history and memories and the son that will never return to the light. “And that’s all you can do. Fight for her, dream for her, hope for her. Maybe someday we’ll get the galaxy right for our children.”

When he leaves, she’s still sitting there, surrounded by the wavering shadows of the ghosts only she can see.

*

Luna is drifting back towards the surface of wakefulness as he pads into their room. BB-8 is rocking from side to side next to her box, and he pats the droid’s dome before scooping his daughter up into his arms. “How was she?” he asks BB-8.

[boring] BB-8 chirps. [you do realise babies spend seventeen hours of the day asleep, idiot?]

“Be nice, I’m new to the whole Dad thing.”

[why would I be nice to you?]

“I think BB-8 needs an attitude adjustment, Luna, what do you say?”

Luna coos a little, blinking sleepily up at him and yawning. Poe’s sure you would be able to see his smile from space as he ducks his head to press a butterfly kiss to Luna’s nose. Her skin is like starlight, soft and hazy and she blows a little bubble of spit at him, her mouth opening and closing in fits and starts. If he doesn’t feed her now she’ll scream bloody murder for hours.

[don’t you fucking dare mess with my programming, Friend-Poe]

“Buddy, you have an electric prod, I’m not coming anywhere near you. Have you seen Luna’s bottle?”

[you left it in the steriliser in the refresher]

“Thanks pal.”

Once Luna is fed, he sits with her for a bit, humming snatches of a song he vaguely remembers from his own childhood, and marvelling over this tiny speck of humanity nestled in his arms, her foggy blue eyes and dusting of brown hair that is shaded gold in the puddles of sunlight leaking through their window.

When he looks up again, Finn is standing in the doorway with a smile warm enough to spark a fire.

“How are my two favourite people?” he asks, padding across the room to give Poe a kiss. Poe smiles against his mouth, reaching up a hand to touch Finn’s cheek.

“We’re good, aren’t we Luna? Do you want a cuddle with Daddy?”

He gently transfers the baby into Finn’s arms, curling his legs underneath himself as Finn rocks her, making baby-talk and tickling her little sea-star fingers. It’s amazing how well Finn has adjusted to parenthood, he thinks, considering it’s not black and white and coded like _how to be in the army_ or _how to shoot a TIE-fighter’s blasters._ Poe’s had what could resemble a normal life – a peaceful childhood, parents that loved him and raised him properly, schooling and a job, even if that job is careening around star systems and nebulae, fighting the tentacles of an ever-growing enemy – and he feels clammy and sick when he thinks of all the responsibility on his shoulders with Luna’s crash-landing into their life.

“You look sad,” Finn says, suddenly, from where he’s tucking Luna back into her box.

“I’m not. Just thinking.”

“What about?” Finn makes his way over to the bed, sitting down next to Poe and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The way his fingers ghost up and down Poe’s arm gives him shivers. Finn’s always had a gravitational pull, Poe thinks, but it’s never more evident than when it’s the two of them alone, eye to eye, nose to nose.

“You. And Luna. And how much I love you both.”

Finn kisses him then, kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, and they fall backwards against the pillows, and all Poe can do is thank whichever higher power it was that set their lives on a collision course, tumbling into this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby-related prompts are being accepted, so if you have any ideas, drop me a line :) xx


	4. A Homecoming (of a sort)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of less fluffy I'm afraid but this little experiment is developing an unexpected plot, so that's a bonus! Let me know what you think :) xx

When the news arrives that Rey’s on her way, Finn can barely contain his excitement. It spills out of his skin like a corona of buzzing energy; he can’t sit still, even when he’s exhausted from a day training with the Pathfinders in the thick jungle around the base. Poe can’t help the indulgent smile that threatens whenever he comes in to find Finn sitting with Luna, rocking her and telling her everything; the meeting, BB-8’s cattle-prod, the endless chain reaction of catastrophe that followed them across the galaxy until Finn wound up in the Resistance’s hospital and Rey at the ancient Jedi temple in a forgotten corner of space.

“I’ve just missed her,” Finn says that night, his chin on Poe’s shoulder and his arm a warm restraint around Poe’s waist.

“She’s your best friend, of course you’ve missed her,” Poe murmurs back, trying to keep the yawn out of his voice. It’s a rare night that Luna is so tired from a day being carted around the base and cooed at that she goes down without a fuss; these days, sleep is more welcomed than victory. “Commlinks are no substitute for real life.”

“I can’t wait to give her a hug. And to introduce her to Luna.”

“I’m afraid Jess has claimed the role of favourite aunt so Rey’s gonna have to fight her for it.”

“Rey would win.”

Poe laughs softly, winding his fingers through Finn’s. “Watching Pava get her ass handed to her would be hilarious.”

“And the fact she’d sulk for a week.”

“Mostly because she’d look stupid in front of Rey.”

“How is her little crush?”

“Mostly well-disguised hero worship at this point; Rey hasn’t really been around enough for it to be a proper crush. Not that Pava appreciates my wisdom.”

“Women, eh?”

“Women.”

Finn thinks this is his favourite time of day; the night blankets the forest and the orchestra of wild things that darkness brings hunting is howling in the distant hills. Poe is a warm weight in his arms, his head tipped back against Finn’s chest, teetering on the edge of sleep, and they can hear Luna’s little breaths from her box by the bed. He can’t believe their little girl is over a month old, growing like a weed (as the General says) and starting to recognise them whenever she’s picked up, gurgling and spitting and cooing at their smiles.

Poe starts to snore quietly, and Finn brushes a kiss to the back of his head, closing his eyes and thinking about how he never knew how much he was missing until it was right in his lap.

*

They’re woken in the small hours by not Luna’s hungry wails but the screech of the emergency alarm, the red beacon flashing in the corner of the room. Finn jerks back into awareness, nearly falling off the edge of the bed and Poe is sitting straight upright, scrambling out and diving for his flightsuit. Luna starts to scream and they exchange a glance, half into their uniforms.

“I’ll take her to the med bay,” Finn decides. “Go!”

“Be safe,” Poe says, coming forward to press a hard kiss to his mouth, squeezing Finn’s shoulder and leaning down to touch his fingers to Luna’s forehead before dashing out of the door. She squalls angrily as Finn throws on his shirt, scooping her up in one arm and their bags into the other.

“What’s happening?” he gasps as he shoulders his way in through the double doors.

“First Order tracked the Millennium Falcon in,” Dr Kalonia says briskly from where she’s busy helping one of the nurses fold up an ominous looking machine. “We’re relocating with immediate effect.”

“I’m needed with my unit.”

“We’ll take Luna.”

“Thought you would. Thanks.”

“Come find her when we’re at the new base.”

“I will. Safe journey.”

He can’t help but look over his shoulder at his screaming daughter as he turns to go, his feet on autopilot as he runs through the halls to the weapons lockers, grabbing his blaster and his armour and throwing it on, fingers fumbling over the buckles. He’s only a minute late to the assembling point and it’s almost too late; they’re running pell-mell into the troop-transports as a dogfight rages above them, X-Wings and TIE-fighters howling through the air, blaster cannons tearing apart the fabric of the sky. As the ramp closes, he sits down in silence with the rest of his squad, squeezing his eyes closed and trying not to wonder whether he’ll ever see Poe or Luna again.

*

They limp out of the battle not as crippled as the First Order would have liked, but still struggling to stay upright. Poe feels as though there’s sand stuck in the corners of his eyes as he nearly falls out of the cockpit of Black One, pulling off his helmet and gasping in the air like a drug. The cold bites at his face, but he takes a moment to enjoy it, to relish being alive after nearly twenty hours of fighting and fleeing and dodging through hyperspace lanes, trying to shake the spectre on their tails.

“Dameron,” a voice says, and there’s Ivan, holding out a bottle of water and going over to free BB-8 from the droid socket. “You okay, man?”

Poe scrubs a hand across his face. “I will be. Have the marines or medics landed yet?”

“I saw Apprentice Rey take your daughter inside, if that’s what you’re asking,” he reports. “But I don’t know about the marines. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. Uh…took a couple of hits to the left wing and one to the stabiliser, and I was quite rough with the hyperspace changes so I don’t know how the hyperdrive is holding up. She’s still flyable though, so nothing awful.”

“I’ll get onto it tonight so she’s ready if you’re needed tomorrow.”

“I owe you buddy, thanks.”

“Don’t stress – go find your family.”

Poe pats Black One’s nose, then forces himself to get moving, avoiding the patches of ice at the sides of the runway. BB-8 squawks in protest, rolling along beside him.

[that was no fucking fun at all]

“Tell me about it, buddy.”

[fucking first order assholes, why did they have to destroy D’Qar. I liked D’Qar. It’s too sodding cold here.]

“Don’t be a princess, you spend most of your time in outer space.”

BB-8 blats indignantly, then whirrs. [Friend-Finn and Baby-Boring will be fine, don’t get all worried it’s annoying.]

“Unhelpful, buddy.”

[you’re the one who programmed me to have free will]

“Fair point.” Poe pushes through the crowds of people thronging in the hallway, heading for the war room he remembers seeing on the plans of this base. He takes the stairs up to it three at a time, launching himself through the door to be greeted by the General. He hastily snaps off a salute, arranging himself into parade rest.

“Debrief.” The General’s face is set in stone.

“We weren’t followed; three X-Wings were shot down. They were Green Squadron so I don't know who.”

The General takes a moment of silence and Poe ventures, “The troop transports?”

“Safe, but on the other base. They’ll join us when the space lanes have cleared.”

“Thank _fuck_ ,” Poe says emphatically. The General nods and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Get some rest, Commander Dameron. Once we’ve sorted the new base, there’ll be reconnaissance missions, a possible counter attack.”

“Yes ma’am. Is Rey here?”

“Yes.” She appears from the corner of the room, and Poe has to bite back an exclamation. There’s blood clotting heavily at her temple and an angry, stitched-up scar slashing over her face and down her neck, raw and red and achingly new. The bundle of blankets in her arms kicks and squeals a little and Poe shoves it out of his mind, rushing forward to take Luna into his arms. She starts to cry, her face quickly turning crimson and spit frothing at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s okay little one, Papa’s here. Sssh, ssh, stop crying, it’s okay, Luna, we’re okay.”

“Dameron.” General Organa gives him an exhausted look. “Get your child out of my war room.”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.”

Poe heads for the door and Rey falls into step beside him, clutching her jacket around her shoulders and shivering against the blast of cold air from the corridor. They find Poe’s compartment without too much trouble, but Luna’s cries are louder than an X-Wing gearing up for takeoff and Rey’s legs barely hold her up by the time Poe is leaning forward to activate the retinal scanner on the door. He’s never been more thankful that all Resistance bases are laid out, assigned and stocked in exactly the same way.

“Get into bed,” he says to Rey. “Do you need anything for that cut?”

“It’s old,” she says dismissively. He raises an eyebrow as she winces.

“Hold Luna for a sec and I’ll get you some painkillers.”

“When will she stop crying?”

“When she feels like it.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

“Babies are inconvenient at the best of times,” Poe tells her, swapping Luna for two tablets and a glass of the gross, tanked water from the refresher.

“I don’t think I’d even seen one before Dr Kalonia dumped her into my arms. I must have been one once, but I can’t remember.”

Poe snorts a laugh at the puzzlement in her tone. "You were definitely a baby, but don't worry, no-one remembers being one." He tries to pinch away the headache building at his temples. "Believe it or not, they're actually quite cute when they're not upset."

“I’ll hold you to that.” Rey tries to smile and only ends up crying out as the movement tugs at her stitches. Poe settles Luna down for a second to strip off his boots and flightsuit, dumping them on the floor.

“Did Kalonia say whether she’d fed Luna or not?”

“I think so?”

Luna hiccups in agreement as Poe scoops her up again, walking her around the room a few times and humming the first nonsense tune that pops into his head. Her head falls onto his shoulder and her little fingers are curling against his chest. “That,” he says, sitting down next to Rey, “was far easier than I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“She can take hours to fall asleep if she’s really worked up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s a right pain, especially as you know you’re going to have to wake up at 2am to feed her.”

“I never want a baby if they’re like that.”

“Thought you’d say that,” Poe grins at her, letting himself lean back against the flat-packed pillows. “Now she’s quiet – are you okay?”

“I should be,” Rey says uncertainly, scooting over to lean herself against his side. He puts his free arm around her shoulders, guiltily smacking down the part of him that wishes Finn were in her place right now. Finn is _safe_. That’s all that matters.

“Okay. Do you want to talk about it? Or wait for Finn to get here or…”

“I just really want to sleep.”

“Good, me too.”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure. I don’t sleep well on my own anymore, so company is always welcome.”

“You’re getting soft, flyboy.”

“We need to have a race sometime and I’ll show you who’s getting soft.”

“You’re on.” Rey stifles a yawn and curls herself up in the corner of the bed.

“Awesome. I’ll just get Luna into bed then I’m all yours,” Poe says, wiggling his eyebrows in a way he knows will make her laugh.

“Don’t tempt me,” Rey mumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: prompts are being taken for this story so if you have a milestone/cute fluff idea involved snuggly babies that you want to see written, then drop me a line :D


	5. When You Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while guys - real life caught up with me a bit! This one gave me a bit of trouble, but yeah. Oh well. Enjoy!

Finn’s absence is an aching thing, Poe decides as he lies in bed waiting for Luna to wake up and demand to be fed. It’s only been three days and he can feel the worry chewing at his insides; the logical part of his brain knows that Finn is safe (as safe as anyone is these days) but logic is the last thing his heart wants. Luna starts to snuffle, and Poe heaves a sigh, staring up at his ceiling and feeling the gravity in his limbs.

“Five more minutes, sweetheart?” he asks hopefully. Luna squeaks and stutters her way into a cry. “Okay, okay, little miss dictator, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

He pulls himself upright, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, scrubbing a hand across his face and forcing himself to his feet. BB-8 powers up with a little blat noise and rolls over.

[you ran out of formula last night] it informs him and Poe groans.

“Fuck.”

[you are being stupid at the moment]

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, buddy.”

BB-8 sways against his shin and beeps. [you’re welcome, Friend-Poe.]

Luna’s cries are slowly increasing in volume, and there’s a thump on the wall from next-door, reminding him just how thin the pre-fab walls are in this new base. “It’s one of those days then,” he mutters to himself, pulling on his clothes from yesterday that were decorating his floor and scooping up his squirming daughter into his arms. “Come on, BB-8, let’s go.”

*

Rey appears just as he’s finishing feeding Luna. “I’ll hold her whilst you eat,” she says, scooping her out of his arms, and settling herself on the bench opposite. 

“Thanks,” Poe splashes milk into his caf and looks at the sugar bowl before deciding since the day’s already off to a crap start he might as well have something nice. “How long have you been up?”

“Since about 2am,” she says serenely. “Master Luke doesn’t seem to believe in normal sleep cycles.”

Luna wriggles and squeaks in Rey’s arms, and Rey laughs, the sound golden and dripping through the stale air of the mess hall. Poe smiles at them, marvelling at the way Rey’s taken to babies as easily as she seems to have taken to the planet-hopping and the Force and people who care about her. It’s incredible, sometimes, to think that just over a standard ago, she was crawling around inside the carcasses of starfighters, picking them apart and scraping through the baking desert days, waiting for a family that would never return. 

“Any news?”

“Nope. He’s okay, though, don’t worry. I’d know if something happened to him.”

“Well you have to earn your keep somehow,” Poe forces levity into his voice. Rey raises her eyebrows, but it’s then that Jess decides to make an appearance, dropping into the seat beside Rey and grinning at her with literal hearts pulsing in her eyes. To his surprise, a faint flush trickles across Rey’s cheekbones, and she holds Jess’s gaze with a small smile until Poe clears his throat. 

“Excuse me, some of us want to eat our breakfast without throwing up.”

“Shut up, Dameron,” Jess retorts, leaning down to tickle Luna’s cheek. Luna reaches out one chubby little hand and grabs onto Jess’s hair. “Ow! No, Luna, that’s not a toy, let go!”

“Well I need to go and see the General,” Poe says. “You can look after my demon spawn for the morning since you’re already having such fun with her.”

Jess glares at him upside down as Rey tries to disentangle Luna’s sticky fingers from Jess’s waterfall of black hair. “Traitor.”

“Perils of being the favourite aunty. See you guys later!”

*

There’s nothing more draining than a day of briefings and planning and consulting with the strategy team on First Order troop movements and attack or defend - do we strike back or regroup or just let them keep on swiping grasping fingers through the folds of space, overtaking stars and enslaving and burning lives to the ground? Hours of meetings have Poe stumbling back into his room with packets of papers for his squadrons and Luna tucked into the sling Karé Kun had fashioned for him after the nomadic people of her home world. 

Of course, after a shower and a quick bath in the sink for a squalling, red-faced baby, Luna doesn’t settle and doesn’t settle and doesn’t settle. It’s about midnight, and Poe is pacing a diagonal swathe across the room, still rocking her, feeling the tired, slightly hysterical lump in his throat.

“What do you want, Luna, please, baby, just go to sleep please. Yes, I know, I miss Daddy too, but he’ll be home soon, I promise. Come on, Luna, stop crying, please stop crying…”

In the exhaustion filling his head like cotton candy, he doesn’t hear the hiss of the door opening, doesn’t register the other presence in the room until a pair of warm arms are wrapping around him, and lifting Luna off his shoulder. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Finn says. “Let’s give Papa a break, shall we?”

Luna’s cries die off immediately, and Poe turns to embrace his boyfriend, resting his head against Finn’s collarbone. “You’re home,” he says, breathing in the smell of spaceflight and blaster-burns and engine-oil, his heart swelling with something he’s too tired to name. “Thank god, I was worried sick.”

“I’m sorry,” Finn presses a kiss to the top of Poe’s head. “We had to take a little detour and yeah. I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll just get Luna into bed then I’ll be right there.” 

Poe lifts his head to give Finn a quick kiss, then stumbles over to the bed, only to be stopped by a sharp inhale.

“What’s wrong?”

“Poe!”

“What?”

Finn crosses the room in three quick strides. “Look!”

Luna is smiling at them, waving her arms sleepily and cooing to herself. Poe didn’t think his heart could get any lighter, but somehow it seems to, contentment bubbling up inside of him as he leans against Finn’s shoulder, watching the incandescent little smile on their baby’s face, her sleepy blue eyes focused up on their faces.

“It makes it all seem worth it,” he says, almost to himself. 

“Yeah,” Finn murmurs, bringing Luna up to kiss her forehead. “It does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, prompts are being taken for this story. All inspiration welcome! :)


End file.
